your opaline phrases & fragments are dashing
up against the cliffs of distraction
emboldened & electric blue
decided against the butterfly time
& still
your similes are so fucked up
infecting my language with catastrophic
danceable poetry for mass derangement
but nevermind
it’s forgettable
all ink & drunkenness
not tooth & claw
your jazzy attempts at sub rosa frequencies
are precious
& possibly ill-advised
when you could easily freeze a bicycle
& mount it on the top of a cathedral
like so
fluttering like pigeons
on the mad magician’s stage
turning to flame
in a clockwork eye
your castaway clauses & cascading words
will be forgotten tomorrow
i guarantee it
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